“So you heard all about their plans,” Bessie said.
“I did. He was going back across, back to his farm. His father wanted him to start taking over after his extended holiday. Fenella was going to go with him. He said he was going to marry her as soon as they arrived in Cumbria, but I don’t know if that’s true. He seemed like the type to just take her along and then discard her when he grew tired of her.”
“You wanted to protect her,” Bessie suggested.
“Of course I did,” Eoin nearly shouted. “I loved her, even if she was involved with another man. I’d have done anything for her.”
“So what happened?”
“I was at the pub that night,” Eoin said, his eyes unfocussed as he remembered. “I had a few drinks and I bought him a few as well. I told him that I really liked Fenella and asked him to leave without her. He laughed and told me that he wasn’t going to give up a good thing like Fenella without a fight.”
“So you fought him?”
“No, I laughed and told him he was crazy, that Fenella wasn’t worth fighting over, then I offered to give him a ride up to the farm. He’d already sold his fancy car, and he had his suitcases with him, all ready to get on the boat.”
Bessie didn’t want to hear the rest of the story. She stood up. “I think maybe I should go and see what’s keeping Fenella,” she said, trying not to sound as anxious as she felt.
Eoin shook his head. “I may as well tell you the rest. It’s such a relief, telling someone. I’ve been keeping it a secret for so long. It’s the only secret I’ve ever had from Fen. We’ve been through a lot together, but I don’t know how she’d feel if she knew what I did that night. I’d like to think that our years of happiness prove that I made the right choice, getting rid of Jacob, but I don’t know if she’d agree.”
“Maybe you should talk to her about it,” Bessie suggested.
“I can’t,” Eoin replied. “I can’t tell her that I drove Jacob up here in my truck but stopped at the lower barn. I told him I needed to check on something and asked him to come and give me a hand. He didn’t want to do it. He was really lazy and hated getting his hands dirty, you know.”
Bessie didn’t trust herself to speak. She sat back down and looked at Eoin. He was pale and haggard and Bessie felt certain that he knew he didn’t have long left.
“I don’t know for sure what I was planning,” he said now. “I wanted to beat him senseless, I know, but I don’t know if I planned to kill him or not. I only hit him a couple of times, before he stopped getting back up.”
A soft gasp came from the kitchen doorway on the opposite wall. Bessie looked up to see Fenella standing there. Eoin didn’t seem to have heard her, and she was out of his line of sight. As Bessie stared at her, she slowly shook her head.
“I didn’t realise he was dead for a while,” Eoin continued. “I sat down and waited for him to wake up for hours, but he never did. Then I realised that I needed to get rid of the body. No one ever spent much time in the lower barn, anyway, so I dug a hole under the boxes that Niall had put there when Marion died and dropped him in it, and then put the boxes back on top. Once it was all over, I was certain I’d get found out. I’ve spent my whole life since waiting for the police to come for me.”
“And yet you married Fenella,” Bessie blurted out.
“I loved her. I did it for her,” Eoin replied. “Jacob wouldn’t have made her happy. He probably wouldn’t even have married her. He never wrote to his sister about her; that’s very telling, isn’t it? I’ve done everything I can for my entire life to make Fenella happy. Getting rid of that man was for the best, really it was.”
Bessie could hear the desperation is the man’s voice as he tried to persuade himself that he’d done the right thing.
“Anyway, please don’t tell Fen. I’ll write it all down in a letter and you can give it to the police after I’m gone. It won’t be long now, anyway. Maybe the police can just keep quiet about it. That would be for the best, really. Fenella would never have to know.”
“She thinks her father killed him,” Bessie said quietly.
“He might have,” Eoin said. “He was very angry about her leaving. Maybe, if I’d brought him to the house, Niall would have killed him.”
“You don’t believe that,” Bessie said. “Niall always wanted Fenella to be happy. Even if he didn’t want her to leave, if it’s what she wanted, he would have let her go.”
“He was furious,” Eoin replied. “He might have taken a swing at Jacob and killed him accidently, just like I did.”
“Maybe,” Bessie said, not wanting to argue with the man.
“I’ll write out my confession and give it to you,” he told Bessie. “Promise me you won’t give it to the police until after I’m gone.”
Before Bessie could reply, Fenella walked into the room. “Don’t promise him anything,” she said angrily.
“Fen? Please tell me you weren’t listening,” Eoin said plaintively.
“I was listening,” she told him. “I loved Jacob so much, and you killed him.”
“He wasn’t good for you. He was seeing a dozen other women. He probably would have thrown you aside within a month.”
“You didn’t even know him,” Fenella said, her voice low. “He loved me and we would have had a wonderful life together. We might even have been able to have children.”
Eoin looked at her and his face crumpled. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I wanted to protect you.”
“I wasn’t yours to protect,” Fenella said, tears flowing down her face.
“You were already my everything,” he told her.
“But you weren’t mine,” Fenella replied. She turned and walked out of the room, leaving Eoin sobbing behind her. Bessie hesitated for a moment and then followed Fenella out.
“Can I do anything to help?” she asked the woman, who’d stopped a few paces away and was now leaning against the wall crying.
“Ring John Rockwell and ask him to come and get Eoin,” Fenella said. “I don’t want to see him ever again.”
“Maybe I should ring your doctor,” Bessie said. “Do you have any friends who can come and sit with you?”
Fenella shook her head. “I have Nicholas and Sarah,” she replied. “Maybe you could tell them what’s happened? I don’t feel like talking right now.”
Bessie nodded. “Where’s your room? Maybe you should go and lie down, and I’ll find Sarah and send her to you.”
“I think I’d rather go and lie down in my father’s room,” Fenella said. “He hasn’t stayed there since just after the house was built, but we’ve kept it exactly the same. There’s nothing of Eoin’s in there.”
Bessie took the woman’s arm and helped her up the stairs and down the corridor. Fenella opened a door and led Bessie into a large bedroom. It was clearly a man’s room, with large and dark furniture. Bessie helped Fenella into the bed, which was made up with dark blue sheets and a matching duvet.
“My father loved this room, when the house was first finished,” she said softly.
“I’m so sorry,” Bessie said.
“I can’t quite take it all in,” Fenella told her. “I’ve had so many years to get used to losing Jacob that I’m almost not angry about that anymore. It feels worse to me that Eoin was prepared to let my father take the blame, even if only for a short time.” She rested her head on the pillows and sighed. “I think maybe I do need a doctor,” she told Bessie. “I think I’d quite like to be heavily sedated for a few days.”
“Do you want me to stay for a while or should I go and find Sarah?” Bessie asked after she’d rung Fenella’s doctor.
“I think I’d like to have Sarah,” the woman replied. “She’s very nice and very motherly in a way. That’s probably what I need.”
Bessie headed towards the door. She hadn’t rung John yet, but that didn’t seem as urgent as getting help for Fenella. Sarah was standing just outside the room, watching the door when Bessie opened it.
&n
bsp; “What’s going on?” she asked in a whisper.
“Eoin’s confessed to killing Jacob Conover,” Bessie told her. “Fenella overheard and is, obviously, very upset. I’ve rung her doctor and he’s on his way.”
“Nicholas had his suspicions,” Sarah said. “He didn’t believe that Niall had anything to do with it, but he couldn’t say anything against Eoin, of course.”
“Someone needs to ring the police,” Bessie said uncertainly.
“Perhaps that’s what Eoin was doing when I came upstairs,” Sarah said. “He was on the phone with someone.”
Bessie walked back down to the kitchen and found Eoin and Nicholas sitting silently together.
“I’ve rung the police and asked for John Rockwell,” Eoin told Bessie. “He’s on his way.”
“Fenella’s doctor is on his way as well,” Bessie told him.
“I never meant to hurt her. I never would,” Eoin replied.
To Bessie he looked even smaller and sicker than he had an hour ago. She couldn’t help but think that he would never make it to a murder trial.
Chapter Fifteen
When Bessie woke up on Saturday morning, she wasn’t feeling much like having a Thanksgiving feast. Events at the Clague farm continued to upset her, and even a long walk along the beach did little to help. When she got home from her walk, Doona was parked in front of her cottage. She greeted Bessie with a hug.
“I thought you might like some company,” she told Bessie.
“I’m going to have plenty of that today,” Bessie replied.
“I thought you might like some quiet company before the chaos,” Doona amended her remark.
“I don’t think I’m very good company at the moment,” Bessie replied. “I understand Eoin is in hospital and the prognosis isn’t good.”
“John said they are giving him weeks at most,” Doona said.
“Maybe that’s for the best,” Bessie sighed. “I’ve also heard that Fenella hasn’t been to see him.”
Doona shrugged. “Maybe we should find something else to talk about,” she suggested.
Bessie forced herself to smile. “You’re right,” she said. “My Thanksgiving feast is one of my favourite days of the year. I need to put the whole sad story out of my mind for today.”
“I brought a bottle of wine, if you think that might help,” Doona told her.
“It’s not even eight in the morning yet,” Bessie said, shaking her head.
“It’s a special occasion,” Doona laughed.
Bessie hesitated for a moment and then smiled. “Go on then. Let’s have a glass of wine. Just the one, though.”
Bessie was taking down the glasses when she heard another car pull up by her cottage. Doona opened the door to Hugh and Grace.
“Pull out a couple more glasses,” she called to Bessie.
“Wine? Isn’t it a bit early?” Hugh asked after he’d given Bessie a hug.
“It’s a holiday,” Bessie explained.
“Hugh’s driving, but I’m not,” Grace said. “I’ll join you for sure.”
Doona poured wine into four glasses, giving Hugh just a small amount. “You can drive us all to the feast, can’t you?” she asked him as she took a large sip from her own glass.
“Of course I can,” Hugh replied. “I’d be happy to.”
“But what brings you here this morning?” Bessie asked the pair.
Grace glanced at Hugh, who shrugged. “We just wanted to see how you were doing,” she said after a moment. “I know that you’ve had a lot going on lately and I was afraid it all might interfere with your enjoyment of today.”
“Hence the wine,” Bessie said.
“Wine was a good idea,” Grace told Doona. “We just brought pastries.”
Bessie smiled. “What would I do without my friends?” she asked as Grace piled croissants, muffins, and doughnuts onto a platter.
An hour later the wine was gone. Hugh hadn’t drunk much, but he’d made up for it by eating most of the pastries.
“I really need to head to the restaurant now,” Bessie said, feeling the warm glow that the wine, good food, and great friends had brought.
“Let’s go, then,” Hugh said. “Maybe they’ll need someone to taste-test things for them in the kitchen.”
Everyone laughed and then they all climbed into Hugh’s car and headed for Ramsey.
“Bessie, we have everything under control,” Lisa assured her when they arrived at The Swing Bridge. “The turkeys are roasting, the pies are cooling, and the bread rolls are rising.”
Bessie grinned. “I know I didn’t have to be here this early, but I decided I might as well pace and fret here as at home.”
“You have nothing to fret about,” Lisa said. “Everything will be perfect.”
Upstairs in the banquet room, Bessie surveyed the scene. White tablecloths were set with plain white plates. Centerpieces filled with autumn flowers matched napkins in a variety of deep autumnal colours.
“Look at the gorgeous colours,” Doona said.
“I didn’t know you could get all these different flowers this late in the year,” Grace said.
“The whole effect is just about perfect,” Doona told Bessie.
“It does look rather nice,” Bessie agreed. “But it seems like an awful lot of places. I didn’t think I invited this many people.”
Doona laughed. “I suspect you invited many more people than this,” she said. “Luckily, some of them couldn’t come.”
Bessie blushed and then laughed. “You could be right,” she said sheepishly. “Once I got started, I couldn’t seem to stop myself.”
“What can we do to help?” Grace asked.
“I have place cards for everyone,” Bessie said. “I thought that might be easier than having people trying to find their own seats. But now I’m not so sure. Maybe, if everyone can sit wherever they choose, people will be able to make new friends.”
“I think either way will be good,” Doona told her. “I’m quite happy sitting with the people I already know, but I know that anyone who is friends with you will be nice and interesting.”
“What do you think?” Bessie asked Hugh.
“I think I want to sit with Grace,” Hugh said. “But beyond that, I’m happy anywhere.”
“As long as there’s plenty of food,” Grace added for him.
Hugh laughed. “She knows me too well,” he told the others.
“I don’t really mind, either way,” Grace told Bessie. “I’ll sit anywhere.”
“In that case, I think we’ll do away with the place cards and let everyone find their own groups,” Bessie said.
“Just don’t you worry about everyone,” Doona said. “You relax and have fun. It’s going to be a great afternoon.”
Bessie nodded, but she felt a pang of uncertainty. She’d never hosted this many guests before, and there was quite a mix of people from all around the island. “I just hope it all works out,” she muttered as Lisa brought them glasses of wine.
“It’s going to be wonderful,” Lisa assured her.
A couple of hours later, Bessie had to agree. The room was packed with people and everywhere that Bessie looked she saw a friendly face. Some of her friends from Manx National Heritage were chatting with Ruth and Muriel from the flats on Seaview Terrace. Doncan Quayle and his wife were laughing with Spencer Cannon and Beverly, whom Bessie had liked instantly. John Rockwell’s children seemed to be having a wonderful time playing games with Liz Martin’s two toddlers, and Doona was keeping Mary Quayle company while George wandered around, talking to everyone.
She looked over at Henry and grinned. He was shyly introducing his friend, Laura Meyers, to everyone. Laura was in her late forties or early fifties and had just moved to the island after being offered a job with Manx National Heritage. Bessie thought she seemed perfect for Henry, and from what Bessie had seen so far, it appeared that Henry felt the same way.
It was nearly time for the food to be served when Mark Blake found her.
“Bessie, I was wondering if you’d be willing to join a committee that I’m putting together,” he said after an initial greeting.
“What sort of committee?” Bessie asked warily. She always felt at a slight disadvantage with the people from Manx National Heritage. They were all smart and well educated, and Bessie never forgot that she was simply an enthusiastic amateur when it came to studying history.
“We’ve come up with what we hope is a brilliant idea for a fundraiser,” Mark told her. “It’s going to be called Christmas at the Castle, and we’ll be holding it at Castle Rushen.”
“That sounds interesting,” Bessie said, curious to hear more.
“We thought it would be a chance for not only Manx National Heritage to raise some money, but also other charities on the island. Any group that would like to take part is going to be allowed to decorate a room at the castle for the holidays, to some sort of theme of their choice,” Mark told her. “We haven’t planned out exactly how it’s going to work, that’s where the committee comes in, but what we want to do is find ways to help out all of the charities that get involved.”
“I’m intrigued,” Bessie told him.
Mark laughed. “That’s good,” he said. “I just hope the rest of the island is as well. We’re trying to get a strong planning committee together that can bring a wide variety of ideas and experience to the event. I thought of you right away.”
“I don’t know,” Bessie said. “I’ve never been involved in anything like this before.”
“But I’m sure you’ll have some wonderful ideas,” Mark countered. “Marjorie has already agreed to help and so has Mary Quayle. I’d like your thoughts on who else to add to the committee as well.”
“Let me think about it all,” Bessie replied. “Things are a little bit hectic today.”
Mark nodded. “I’ll ring you towards the end of next week,” he said. “That gives you some time to think it through. I’d be really grateful if you’d do it, but I’ll understand if you can’t.” He gave here a quick hug and then disappeared into the crowd.
Before Bessie could give the matter any thought, the restaurant staff began to fill the long buffet tables with food. Wonderful smells began to fill the air and Bessie’s mouth began to water.
Aunt Bessie Invites (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 9) Page 23
